Subway Meeting
by Dodger Gilmore
Summary: Jess never liked the subway. He dealt with it, hiding in books and music. Then one day he comes across someone he maybe doesn’t wish to be hidden from. Or maybe he does.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Subway Meeting

**Summary: **Jess never liked the subway. He dealt with it, hiding in books and music. Then one day he comes across someone he maybe doesn't wish to be hidden from. Maybe.

**A/N:** I was riding the subway and got inspired. This came out of it. The story was meant to be a one shot, but I'm not so sure about that anymore. Tell me what you think, and if you wish so I will continue.

_Chapter One_

Travelling the subway was nothing unusual to Jess. He did it practically every day, paying no or very little attention to the fact that there actually were other people travelling along with him. That is to say, he was aware of their presence – too aware – but he tried to ignore them as much as possible. When he was a kid he had always preferred car rides, all the unfamiliar faces frightening him a bit. However, Liz never had been one to handle economy and that car she had received from her father when she entered motherhood was pretty soon given up in trade for something he didn't want to know about. Since then he had been forced to getting used to taking the subway wherever he went. By the time he had turned ten he had had no more problems with it. At least that was what he told himself and everybody else. Deep inside he never had been able to shake off that uncomfortable feeling of too many people watching you. It was too crowded. But he lived, put earplugs in his ears and concentrated his eyes on the letters of his current book and almost didn't feel like he was on a subway anymore.

Today was no different, at first. He read. He blasted The Clash, probably receiving tinnitus, but with the benefit of being able to shut out the world around him as much as possible. Then something changed. For some reason he looked up, and that's when he discovered her, sitting only a few seats away from him. At first he simply stared in shock. Then he doubted his vision capability – could it really be her? Maybe it was just someone who resembled her - a lot! Yes, that had to be the case, she couldn't be here, she didn't live here in New York, she was in school, Yale, New Haven. But no, she must have graduated from there years ago, he realized as he did a quick recount of how long they had been apart. Wow, it really had been that long. And then, he pondered, it was in fact possible for her to be here, now. After all, New York was a large city (sometimes way too large in his opinion, and sometimes not quite large enough) and you did not run into everyone who lived here. Maybe she did live here, walked down the same streets as he did, but they had just never come across each other before.

He gathered his confused thoughts and took a real look at her. She had changed, of course, but not too much for him to be definitely unmistaken that he had caught the right girl. Her hair was of another length than the last time he had seen her, in her dorm room. This was probably the longest hairstyle he had ever seen her in. It suited her though. He had never been fond of the shortness. However, nothing could ever top the simplicity of her high school haircut. According to him, she could never be more beautiful than she had been in that Chilton uniform, her hair up and with no or little makeup (he never had been able to see the difference between those two, he only noticed makeup when it was over the top and that just bugged him) when she used to come by Luke's after school.

She was more dressed-up now. More formal-looking. He didn't really like it. It wasn't extreme in any way, and on anybody else he would have thought it nice and simple if he had paid it any attention at all (which he probably wouldn't have, had it been anyone else). But on her it just didn't seem to fit. What bothered him mostly though, wasn't her clothing or hairdo. It was her eyes. He had never seen them like this. Emotionless. Staring blankly off into the space before her. Empty. Those eyes were not meant to be empty. Every time he had studied those eyes, they had shown some kind of emotion. Often happiness and liveliness – after all, she was her mother's daughter. Sometimes those eyes had blushed (he knew no one else with eyes that could blush). They had been angry with him, disappointed, anxious, sad. But never like this. Even the mixture of bitterness and hurt they had blinded him with that disastrous night in her dorm room when he had been desperate and she had screamed 'no' – not even those eyes had disturbed him more than this nothingness.

Something must have happened to her. Perhaps she was just having a bad day, but he doubted that. He had seen her having bad days. Those were filled with tears and grumpiness and irritation. This wasn't anything like that. This seemed a whole lot more like a permanent condition, and that was what frightened him the most. Sure she could have changed her behaviour during all these years, but something in him still knew. He knew her. Would never stop. He saw her, and she saw him. The idea of _meant to be together_ flashed through his brain. Maybe. But who was he kidding. She had said no. And he was not one to be living in a fairytale dream world and longing for a happily ever after. He was rational enough to realize it would never come, and he'd just spend his whole life getting more disappointed as the princess never returned to him if he hoped. That was why he gave up on Rory Gilmore that night in the dorm room. That was why he never visited her or his uncle or anyone who had any connection to her, not even to show them all how much he had done with himself. The urge had come over him uncountable times to go over there and show her the books, to tell her that he now was a published author. He knew she would be proud of him. But he had strained himself and pushed away the memories. She was gone, and he wouldn't be the pathetic boy who never gave up on chasing her. He had lost her, then he had tried to make up for it. She hadn't let him, and that meant they were done. Forever. The only thing he never succeeded in doing was forgetting about her.

Now she was sitting here, just a few feet away from him. It was surreal. His first impulse was to walk up to her and just simply kiss her. Then things would just work out from there; they would get together, date a little, he would be a boyfriend, she would move in, he would propose, they would be married, they would have kids – and live happily ever after. He caught himself there. That was the fairytale ending, not reality. He became embarrassed for even letting that cross his mind. It was stupid. He ought to leave her alone, let her go on with her life as it was, not caring about how empty those eyes looked or what had caused it. That way he would be able to keep his life together as well. It would be the best solution for both of them.

However, the easiest way had just never been him, especially not when it came to her. Soon he found himself taking the seat opposite to her, right where her stare was focused. She let out a small gasp when she recognized him. Her breath returned to her as she took his appearance in, and his name fell from her lips accidentally as she breathed out. He plastered on his usual smirk for her to recognize. He could hide behind that, his teenage rebellion attitude. That way he had control over his facial expression. Who knew what else he might show her if he wasn't careful. This did it for her and she quit doubting it being him a lot faster than he had with her a few minutes ago.

"It's you," was all her verbal ability allowed her to form at the moment, and she repeated those words a few times, before adding an "It really is you" for variation.

He stayed silent, waiting for her to take him in. Also, he wasn't at all certain about what was appropriate to say in a situation like this. He felt like there was so much that needed to be said, that he wanted out of his chest because it had been clinging on there for years, always pressing a little over him, never allowing him to let go. He just had no idea where he was to begin. So he waited, throat drying up.

"So," she started, still a bit overwhelmed, "what have you been up to?"

Small talk wasn't really what he had in mind, but this did give him the opportunity to tell her without having to seek her out in some pathetic romantic comedy way. The words were on his tongue, but they never escaped his lips. He didn't let them, even if he didn't have the time to reflect on the reason for this at the moment.

"Nothing much," he instead answered her with a shrug. "Working." It wasn't a lie, it just wasn't the whole truth, the detailed truth. He wanted to wait with that, it deserved a better environment then a stinky subway. It could be the perfect moment. Someday.

She looked a bit disappointed at his evasive response and he hurried to ask her what she was doing herself. She lit up.

"I'm a journalist, actually," she told him proudly.

"Really?" He smiled genuinely for her.

"Yep. I work at the New York Times."

"Overseas correspondent?" he asked, remembering too much.

Her smile faded a little. "Nah. You were right, that stuff is too rough for me. Besides, I couldn't be away that much now that I have a family and all."

The shock in his face took her by surprise. "You didn't know? Thought Luke would've filled you in."

"We… don't speak much," he muttered, still staring at her in disbelief.

"Oh, well. I'm married, since three years back. His name is Logan. You don't know him, I met him at Yale. We have a kid too," she informed him. He noticed that she didn't smile has happily as she told him this, it was more like a rehearsed, automatic response.

He tried to regain his act of composure. "Let me guess – Lorelai junior junior?"

She shook her head after offering him a grin that didn't reach her eyes. "Logan thought it was silly. Her name is Sheila, after his mother."

He didn't say "oh", he just nodded. Silent, broody Jess was apparently sprung back into life.

"Well, anyway, this is my stop," she continued as she stood up.

"Bye," he offered, realizing he had spent most of the time without saying much at all and this was his last chance at doing something, anything. He just couldn't seem to get anything out of his mouth.

"It was nice seeing you, maybe we'll run into each other again," she said politely and turned to walk out the doors. Just before they were about to close and he had started to sunk back into his seat to process that all this actually had occurred and he had missed out on every opportunity and would probably never see her again, she stuck her head back in.

"There's a really nice coffee house down on the 24th where I usually sit in the afternoons. You should stop by some time. The Bean House."

He just nodded, stunned.

"Well, maybe I'll see you then, Dodger," she added before the train started moving again. That glimmer in her eyes when she called him 'Dodger' was the first time he actually felt that she was the very same person whom he had spent all of these years attempting to get out of his mind. That wasn't fake or rehearsed or distant, like everything else she had said to him seemed to have been. He was still her Dodger. If nothing else.

**A/N: **Is this enough? Anyone who wants to read more? Or does it suck so bad I should immediately give up any thoughts of writing more of this crap? Tell me! I can take it.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thank you for the kind reviews, you inspired me to a fast up-date (hint, hint – the next chapter might just magically appear for you the same way…). I'm really glad some of you liked it, and here you go with some more for that. Read if you wanna see what happens when they meet again. Review if you after reading have _any_ thoughts at all. Now, here we go with the chapter.

_Chapter Two_

She hesitated a moment before entering the café the next day. The possibility was that he was sitting in there, waiting for her. The possibility was also that he wasn't there today and that he would never come. Maybe he didn't want to see her again. She had to admit, it was a weird situation they had gotten themselves in. They had been so close once, and then there had been hatred or at least the pathetic attempts at it. Now the years had gone and the distance had grown and where did it all leave them? She had no idea. She wasn't even sure if she wanted them to be anywhere. But then again, she did, she wanted to see him again. She had missed him. It was just weird. Her conscience told her that she probably shouldn't be here, married. It could only end up in some kind of chaos. Still, she let her hand turn the doorknob and she walked in.

He caught her eye immediately as she entered. He had been looking, searching for her. It made her a little tingly inside and she had to force back a blush. She didn't show anything though. Over the years she had learned to fight off such displays of emotion, for most of the time at least. She instead just smiled at him, simply. Careful not to let it be too excited or admiring of his looks (but, God, wasn't he just more gorgeous than ever?) or whatever it could have been that it shouldn't be.

She sunk down in the chair next to him, as though it was the most natural thing still. And it almost was, at least for them. They both knew why they were there.

"You're here," she stated plainly.

"Guess so," he responded with an almost-shrug. No smirk was present at the moment and his eyes were serious. This worried her a bit. She wasn't at all certain what she did want out of this afternoon, but she had a feeling no good could come from being too serious about it all.

They ordered. She noticed as the wave of nostalgia hit him as she chose coffee along with the most sugary item she could find on the menu. She thought it looked like he was about to comment on it, but then he stopped himself and just ordered – tea and a sandwich. Taking the initiative, she instead chose to make a remark about his unchanged eating habits. "Still not one for the goodness of unhealthy pleasures?"

"After living with Luke and all his lectures, you kind of loose your appetite on that stuff," he responded, a bit uncomfortable about her bringing up their past so lightly. But that was what she wanted; to be able to just talk to him again. She wanted it to be that easy. Just talk. Maybe if she continued bantering he would get thrown off the track of whatever heavy business he might be building up the courage to get out in the open with.

"Yeah, I suppose that could be true. Not with my mom, though."

"Well, she always was resistant to whatever he told her. I, however, couldn't help listening," he told her.

"Aw, poor you. To loose hamburgers and coffee in your life, that really must be tragic."

He just smirked, seemingly not willing to prolong down that meaningless road of small talk. That never had been his thing.

They were eating in silence when suddenly he spoke, just as she had been anticipating. "Do you love him?"

There it was, and she had been right in trying to avoid it. However, she had not succeeded, and now it was out there. Four words, requiring an answer. An honest one? Or just the simple one? She blurted out what was easy, just a tad too quickly and defensive. "Yes. Of course I do." She nodded for emphasis. He said nothing. He just kept looking at her in that way that made her squirm. He didn't believe her. Those eyes were screaming disbelief and they were seemingly attempting to burn a hole through her skin so that they would be able to see the proof of their suspicion inside her head. She didn't even know if there would be anything for them to see if they did. She bit her lip, like always when nervous. "Stop staring at me like that, Jess," she pleaded. He said nothing. She continued. "Please, Jess. I married this guy. That has to mean something, right? He is my husband." She was getting frustrated now. "God, what right do you even have to ask me this – if I'm in love with my husband?"

He just kept looking. His eyes were not empty, but she was unable to categorize what she saw in them, what sort of emotions were flooding around there. A beat passed, then she sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm totally going off on you here for no real reason. Sorry."

He nodded quietly, accepting her apology. They were silent for a minute. She took a zip of her coffee. He waited, knowing more was most definitely to come. Sure thing, soon she spoke again, in a less confident voice. "I do love him. I mean, I – I think I do."

"Wow. Downgraded from unquestioned love to 'you _think_ you love him' in two minutes. That's rough," he pointed out, taking a bite of his sandwich. His tone was the same as when he had been seventeen and sceptically questioning her relationship with Dean. However, his appearance was not the same. His eyes weren't as playful as they used to be. Not that she had ever seen Jess as innocent, but now that was the word that she used to describe what his eyes had lost – their innocence. She shook that thought away and focused on the present, where the right thing to do would be to glare in his direction. Possibly, she was supposed to say something angry back and maybe walk away too, but she didn't find anything to say and running wasn't what she wanted, at least not yet. She was way too intrigued to where this was going to end, so she just glared and waited.

"If you're not even sure you love this guy, then why'd you marry him?" he inquired. His behaviour feigned disinterest in her answer; he looked away and picked with his napkin. She recognized this. He wanted to know and she wouldn't be able to just shrug this off. She never had been able to lie to him, or at least not many times. (Memories of a 'no' now flooded over her, making her close her eyes a little longer than normal during a blink – that was the only time she had ever truly lied to him.)

"You want the truth?" she asked resignedly.

He just nodded and held her stare. She had to look away to tell him.

"I was pregnant."

"What?" he asked in disbelief.

She kept her gaze on the floor, feeling her cheeks redden still. This was not how this was supposed to go and she had no idea why she was suddenly telling him this. She forced herself to look up and meet the intensity of his presence – he had even leaned forward now and they were only inches apart. She fought to keep her voice from wavering.

"I was pregnant," she repeated.

He frowned. "But… you of all people. I mean, your mom – she didn't marry your dad."

"I know." She flinched at the reminder. "But just because she could do it alone doesn't mean I could have. I'm not her."

"Of course you're not her, but -" he began, but she interrupted him.

"She was stronger than me," she stated simply with a shrug.

"But, what, why -?"

She sighed. "I just always thought, that when _I _would have kids, it would be different. I mean, I know we had great times, just me and my mom, but I wanted a real family – the classic way. I didn't want to handle the pregnancy on my own. I wanted someone there to share it with me. Someone to run out on chocolate runs at four in the morning for me. I didn't want to be independent. I wanted to be someone's nutty girlfriend – or wife," she explained. "He was there. He proposed. It was so easy to just say 'yes'."

He listened to all of this and didn't speak when she stopped talking. This made her uncomfortable. She began fidgeting with her hair.

"Wow," he pronounced in a very outdrawn way after a moment. "I'm not sure what I should say to that," he admitted.

"No, it's okay. You probably shouldn't be saying anything to it," she concluded with a fake smile. "I shouldn't have told you that in the first place. Sorry. I better go," she said, suddenly rushing to get a hold of all her things.

"But, Rory – wait!" he said, completely taken by surprise by all of this; the confession, the sudden departure.

She was almost by the door now. At his words she turned back and shook her head sadly, plastered grin still in her features that looked so misplaced. And then she was gone. He just kept staring at the door in disbelief.

**A/N: **Remember: Reviews are always appreciated, no matter what they say. And they do make the chapters come quicker – pretty amazing, huh? With just a few sentences you'll be able to make me happy, _and_ contribute to more of the story, faster!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **This chapter took a bit longer than the last one, but that was unfortunately unusually fast and this will probably be the more normal rhythm. However, I right now have no intention of leaving this story unfinished, and if people will keep liking it I will continue as soon as possible. Oh, and someone pointed out to me that Logan's mother's name is Shira, and not Sheila, like I wrote in the first chapter. Sorry for the mistake, and from now on it will be Shira and nothing else.

_Chapter Three_

For three days she didn't see him again. For three days she was more distant than ever in her relationship with Logan. For three days all she could think about was – what? Him? What she had suddenly blurted out and told him? She wasn't really sure what she actually had been thinking about, since she all the time had strained herself so damn hard to push those thoughts far away. Because there was no point in even thinking them, she told herself. It didn't matter, none of it mattered. She had made her choices so long ago, it was way too late to change any of it now. That was what she had decided, and though maybe she wasn't completely satisfied with this decision, she knew it was the right thing to do. That was why she stubbornly avoided her favourite coffee place for three whole days (Logan wondered of her crankiness, but he never asked, which bothered her even more – Jess would have asked, or, even better, he would have just known). Because staying away was the best and wise thing to do.

Yet, now, she found herself lurking in the doorway of The Bean House for the second time, not certain whether to hope for him to be there or not. If he wasn't, then she would attempt even harder in forgetting their little encounter a few days ago, and she would force herself into succeeding. And if he was there – well, the time had not come to think of that just yet. Either way, she knew she had to know, and therefore she entered.

He wasn't there, she discovered with a surprisingly sinking feeling in the stomach as she thoroughly searched the café without any results. She should be relieved, really, because this way she could go back to living her life. And that was good, it had to be. She had Shira and Logan and her job and she was happy, right? Jess would only complicate things, and she could never count on him, not even for remaining there as her friend. He had always let her down; there was no reason to give him another chance. It was good that she didn't let him get so close to her this time. She probably should have known better than to talk to him at all, or at least than to let herself have coffee with him.

Still, she sighed heavily as she sunk down at her regular table in the corner, feeling as though her legs lost all their strength. She barely grunted a response to the waiter who also was an almost-friend of hers when asked how she was doing. After that she was left alone – they weren't that close. She could feel her eyes watering up, but she refused to set the tears free. She wouldn't cry for him, _that_ was ridiculous.

Now it was official: she and Jess were done – forever and ever. She should feel grateful for this, that she it was over before she had got involved deeper. That she hadn't done anything to be feeling guilty about. That she wouldn't get in any trouble with her husband for hanging out with her ex-boyfriend. Logan was quite the jealous type and now he never had to find out anything, because there was really nothing to find out about. This was good, she tried desperately to convince herself. But still, she had to blink really hard to keep those tears from where they did not belong – out for the world to see. The word "done" kind of hurt, even though they really had lost their chance so many years ago.

And then he suddenly was standing there at the door like an imaginary ghost and their eyes locked and her breath got caught in her throat somewhere. He leaned nonchalantly at the door and was just standing there, being so much Jess that it hurt her, physically hurt her. And it was just: screw all morally correct reasoning and screw all the vows she had just made to herself that she wasn't supposed to be breaking. He also wasn't supposed to be there and yet he was. She could do nothing but beam back at his small smile, her eyelashes still glittering with unshed tears.

Jess didn't think he'd be back here after seeing her run out that day. Each of the three days since then, he had made plans to himself to _just go out for a walk_. Every time he had ended up here, no matter how many turns he had taken to avoid it. It was like magnetism, cliché as it may sound to say that he was drawn to the place – to her. It was the same thing whenever he had been in Stars Hollow in the past. Without thinking, sometimes even while thinking otherwise, his feet led him to the bridge (their bridge). Now it happened again and he wasn't at all sure he liked what she was doing to him, still. He was loosing control and he hated that. He wasn't one to rely on others, but she was like his drug, his abuse. He just couldn't keep himself away, even though he knew it was only self-destructive.

Now he was there again, and she was too, for the first time. He knew she had been avoiding him, and though he should be worried and all overwhelmed with the alarms going off inside him screaming "WARNING! DANGER!", he just couldn't do anything but smile at her, just a little, but genuinely happy to see her. Because he was – he shouldn't be, but he was.

Without having pondered what he was doing, or even noticing it, he suddenly had taken the last steps up to her table and found himself standing there, just in front of her. Not sure what action would be appropriate to perform next, he just let his fingers draw through his hair in a seemingly casual gesture, which really was a nervous one when it came to him; one he used in situations where he didn't know where to place his hands. She just sat there, looking up at him wide-eyed. Her eyes seemed wetter than usual and he wondered if she had been crying, and why. But he didn't trust his vision that well, and he didn't dare asking. In case he was wrong, and that would be embarrassing, or in case he was right and that would scare her off again. He kept his mouth shut, just silently wondering.

Suddenly she seemed to be awakening from something, as she abruptly looked away, broke their stare and shook her head violently, like she was just trying to regain consciousness. When she turned back to him, the pureness of her expression had vanished and she looked collected once more. He felt a small disappointment at the obviously plastered-on smile she now offered him, compared to the so genuine one that she had just shook away.

She motioned for him to sit down and he did, following her hand gesture without taking his eyes off her, which seemed to make her a tad uncomfortable.

She started to speak, obviously trying to make some light conversation. It was too bad that they had lost their ability to just stay silent with each other over the years.

"So, you never told me what it is that you do nowadays," she said, indicating that an answer was necessary. He hesitated a little, not sure if this was the right time to let her know.

"I mean, you're alive, right? That usually requires some sort of payment, and unless you've resigned to the worlds of bank robbing and drug dealing - or maybe those do count as some kind of jobs?" she babbled on, getting herself lost in what she was saying. "Anyway, you must have done something during all this time, since you're, well, alive."

He put on an amused smirk, because this rambling thing he recognized, even though he remembered it coming out a lot less frantic and hysterical. There was silence for a moment, because apparently she was embarrassed now and had decided to rather wait than go through more of the humiliating attempts at persuading him to talk. Still, he could see her impatience growing and if he didn't speak up soon, she might misread it. It really was the time to start forming some words.

"I'm a writer," he suddenly blurted out. This wasn't exactly how the moment was supposed to be, but he didn't have much of a choice and maybe this was the best opportunity he would ever get. Her eyes stared blankly at his form, not grasping the words that just came over his lips. "You're – what?" she asked in confusion.

He took a deep breath. "I'm a writer," he repeated. "I write. Books, you know. Letters on pages. Got a few published too," he added, thinking he might as well tell it all to her now, because he just couldn't not when her eyes were so deep into his and the disbelief he had seen in them was fading into something else. "I mean, it's no Hemingway, but -"

She cut him off roughly by attacking his lips with her own. The softness of her lips, her touch, made him delete all else from his mind and the world outside their mouths didn't exist at all (except maybe her hands, and his hair, as she was tangling those two together, in a plead for intimacy.) It was all familiar and yet so new, so much more passionate and intense than it had ever been back then; she used to be so innocent that he didn't dare touching her in the ways he would have wished. Still there were no cliché fireworks exploding in front of his eyes, just plain need for more meetings of lips and tongues.

Then it was gone, tragically, and through the most violent protests of his own mind, he himself had taken the initiative to pull away. They stayed close, forehead leaning against forehead, breathing into each other, panting slightly – in sync. He hated himself for crushing that little smile playing on her lips, but his mouth didn't think about the consequences of what it said would have (or maybe that part of him was really the only one to actually pay attention to the real consequences).

"You're married," his mouth pointed out, the voice of it only a whisper.

The satisfaction in her eyes transformed into confusion, to worry, to plain screaming fear in seconds. She almost jumped away from him, frantically starting to gather her stuff together (without really getting anything done), mumbling "Oh my God" to herself repeatedly. Soon she dropped her handbag on the floor and gave up the already failed attempt of getting herself composed and together again. She leaned back in her chair and her eyes were suddenly neither angry, nor scared; she just embodied tiredness, hands massaging her temple.

He didn't want to leave her this broken, and he wished there was something he could do to fix this by staying. He knew there wasn't though, and he had done enough damage as it was. He didn't even say goodbye to her now closed eyes (maybe this was because his eyes reflected his pain and that was something she just couldn't bare to watch) before walking away unwillingly.

Once he was out the door, he took one last glance in through the window and it took all the strength he had to stay true to his decision of leaving when he saw her head drop down into her hiding hands, violent shakes going through her whole body. He forced himself to look away and just keep walking.

**A/N: **I want to thank all of you reviewers of my story so far. If you're still liking this, please let me know (this of course also goes for new readers). If you have anything you think could be better – tell me, and I'll try to do better in future chapters. I live off reviews and took the time to write this in a really busy week just because I thought so amazing reviewers deserved an up-date. Okay, now I'm gonna stop rambling about it. My point is; reviews are _very _welcome.

Also, if you think this is getting too depressing – it can't just keep going downhill from here, right?


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Just thought I'd make a clarification about what has and has not happened in this scenario of mine. Season 4 has happened, as has been referred to also. Season 6 however, has not happened, and the last time Jess and Rory saw each other was in the dorm room. Just so you know.

Warning for some curse words in this chapter, if any of you don't wanna read that – don't read this.

_Chapter Four_

The perfect moment. Something you spend so long dreaming about that when it one day comes along you know it can't possibly be anything like you've imagined. But this had been. This had been precisely everything he had wanted. It was just that, at the same time, it had been exactly what he hadn't wanted, ever, for any of them.

Fuck. This was really bad. He had no idea how to get himself out of this damn mess he had created for himself. Or, rather, the mess _they_ had created – for both of them. Shit. This wasn't anything like Sookie's wedding; an innocent peck on the lips and a runaway. Sure, that kiss had contained all the built-up passion that her virgin seventeen year-old form could hold, and it had caused chaos inside both of them, for months. Still, this was different and much, much worse. He still couldn't grasp the fact that she was married now, _married_. Like together forever, in sickness and in health, til death do you part, amen. And she wasn't even in love with the damn guy? Jesus, this was just all too wrong.

The couch never seemed to get comfortable under his shifting body and Jess muttered to it, annoyed. He was being broody here, and he had his reasons for it, so the damn couch should just let him do what he needed to do.

He hadn't bothered to turn on the lights as he had entered the apartment that afternoon. Now it was dusk, and the room was gloomy and filling up with shadows. The darkness didn't disturb him; it was fitting nicely with his mood. As was the pouring rain, dripping and running down his windows, creating a noise that could have been soothing, but wasn't. However, wild storms with thunder roaring and lightning exploding would have been even better. Just rain was a little lame, but it had to do, and it was definitely better than sunshine, even though it was not entirely satisfying.

He sighed, giving up on getting even the slightest bit relaxed, resigning to a very intense stare session with the roof, which was staring back at him, dully, echoing with footsteps from the floor above. He tried not to listen, but when that didn't work he decided to completely focus on the sounds, in the foolish impression that this would take his mind off everything else (her). As said, it was very foolish.

And then his phone rang.

She was still sitting at the café. The tears had dried away by now, but this made nothing better. She still looked a mess and radiated _broken_. She hated all the pitiful looks people offered her, it was worse than any glare or stare. Pity was the last thing she wanted, reminding her of how pathetic the situation she had ended up in was (well, really how pathetic_ she_ was, but she hadn't gone as far as admitting that to herself yet).

Suddenly something struck her memory, and panic shone from her eyes. She checked her watch and swore to herself, grasping with the phone in her purse, dialling rapidly as she cleared her throat from any signs of crying.

"Mr Huntzberger's office, how may I help you?" asked his secretary politely, but Rory could feel the coldness of her voice shooting through the lines and right into her spine.

"Um, I just need to speak to Logan," she said hurriedly. "I'm his wife," she added at the secretary's silence that screamed disapproval of her lack of formality. At the mention of this, she softened, just a bit.

"Alright, I'll pass him on to you." Still that cold tone. God, this woman always freaked her out. Childishly, she didn't say 'thanks', she just waited for Logan's voice, knowing there was no way possible for this woman to dislike her more than she already did.

"Logan Huntzberger here," came his confident response, sounding so important. She guessed he hadn't been informed of who he was speaking to.

"Hi Logan, it's me," she said, assuming he'd know who she meant (hoping he'd know).

"Hey Ace, what's up?" He recognized her voice. She hated his nickname of her, she had from the start. Over the years, she had just waited for him to get sick of it, maybe switch over to something that showed a bit more tenderness, but apparently, it still sufficed.

"Well, I was wondering if you could pick up Shira at day-care today," she said unsurely.

"Weren't you supposed to-?" he started, confusedly. She interrupted him.

"I know, but it turns out I can't, and it would be really great if-" she tried.

"Why can't you do it?" His voice was a little harsh and she flinched. It was almost like he was sensing that her reasons weren't legitimate, which he couldn't be. However, she had no right to be upset with his inconsiderate attitude when she was lying to him completely.

"Um – I got stuck at work, and she's supposed to be picked up already. Please," she added as a plea, hoping it would get to him. Seemingly, it didn't affect him at all.

"Oh. Well, Ace, you should've told me sooner, I'm sorry, but it's just impossible for me to get away right now. You're just gonna have to go anyway."

"But – what about my job?" she blurted out.

"What?"

"Why does it always have to be your job over my job?" she continued, getting worked up. She knew it wasn't fair right now, but it had been fair so many times when she had just kept her mouth shut like the nicest little girl and now this made her nauseous.

"Well, you know, I do make the most money and –" he pointed out.

Click. She didn't let him finish. She slammed her phone shut, rushing out the door in a fury she should have let herself feel a long time ago.

Later that night, she sunk down on the bed, exhausted from the exertion of having to play mommy and pretend everything was okay for hours. It had taken all the energy she had had left in her to keep the rice she had been cooking free of tears. Keeping the smile plastered on while getting judgmental looks from all the ladies at Shira's day-care had not been very pleasant either. She was so tired, and she just wanted to sleep now that Shira had finally been tucked in. She knew she wouldn't though, not while she was this preoccupied. She sighed, turning over, stubbornly refusing to give in to the only option that her mind just wouldn't let go of. Logan wasn't home yet, and she was getting more and more desperate to talk to someone (though that someone wasn't really Logan).

Half an hour later, all her willpower had been worn out and her pride didn't matter anymore. Hands trembling, she picked up the phone from its receiver.

"Luke's Diner," the familiar voice answered, and she was hit by a nostalgia that scented both childhood and high school romances.

"Hi Luke," she said, her voice shaking a lot more than it should be doing.

"Rory?" Apparently he also recognized her voice.

"Yeah, it's me," she confirmed. "Look, I know you're probably busy, and I don't wanna interrupt-" She was on her way of chickening out and she hated herself even more for this than she already did for doing this in the first place.

"Nah, it's okay. Kirk's here," he added.

"Enough said," she said, supposed to be smiling, but only feeling sad at the reminder of the small town life that she had left behind.

"So… you okay and everything?" he asked, being Luke, not handling the small talk very well.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she assured, way too quickly and lightly, but she knew he wouldn't inquire about it. Instead she continued, a bit nervously now that she was getting to the hard part. "You're probably wondering why I'm calling you, and the reason is…", she hesitated, "- do you have Jess's number?"

The other end grew very quiet, obviously not expecting this after all the years that had passed with no contact whatsoever between the two of them, while they had both been acting like they had never even happened. She felt the need to explain herself, but she didn't know how.

"Please, just, don't read anything into this. I just really need to speak to him," she pleaded.

"Is – is something wrong?" he asked, tone worried.

"No, no, not at all. I just – please? Do you have it?"

He sighed. "Yeah, I have it. Hold on a minute, I'll go get it."

"Thanks, Luke, really," she said sincerely.

"Anytime," he muttered, and she could hear his confusion. However, he didn't ask, and right now she loved him for that.

It was mid-night and Logan had still not come home. She wondered of it, but she didn't mind. She was just tired now and that was why she was doing this, she told herself – to get some peace of mind and be able to fall asleep. The note was clutched in her hand, wrinkly from being crumpled over and over every time she had recalled what a bad idea this was. Every time though, she had stopped herself right before tearing it apart and here it was, whole and readable. With her left index finger she stroke the numbers carefully, as if they were a baby's cheek, slowly caressing the papery shell that contained so much more than it seemed by its appearance. Who knew just a few random numbers could be so powerful and enchanting that she could just stare at them for hours and not get at all bored? Nope, the chill still went through her body every time she read them, knowing to whom they led and what would come of her getting the guts to dial them all in a row. So far, she had only gotten as far as to the third number before hanging up.

But, now, she felt it was time. She knew it, she just knew that she would go through with it this time, just as the clock turned to 00:01. It was time, both for her to sleep and to make the call. She wouldn't be able to sleep until she called, and that was for sure. Therefore, she did, this time not just trembling but physically shaking as she was overwhelmed by the sudden lump in her throat that she had to push down forcefully to be able to do this. She knew this was her only chance; she would never be able to go through this again.

"Jess Mariano," his voice came, shocking her by being so close to her ear and sounding so much like _him_. She didn't know what she had expected, but this was more. That was why her voice was gone even though she had thought herself ready and that was why silent tears suddenly was running down her cheeks as she whispered a barely audible response along with a way too loud exhale. "Hi. It's me."

He heard her, breath catching in his throat.

**A/N: **As always, reviews are what I live of, and what makes me up-date. I love them and appreciate every single one of them. Constructive criticism is always very welcome, as is any comments you have in mind after reading. Just tell me what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay of this chapter. I've had it half-written a few days, but I only today got the time to finish it. Sorry to keep you waiting after the lovely reviews! I'll try to be quicker with the next one, that is to say, if anyone likes this one and tells me so…

_Chapter Five_

Yes, he heard her whisper and now he couldn't get his mouth muscles organized again, because no matter how much he tried he just couldn't collect himself after the shock. She called him, now. In the freaking middle of the night, _she _called him. Why would she even call him now, after today? And how in hell had she even got a hold of his number?

She interrupted his inner ranting. "Rory," she added now, thinking he might not have recognized her voice like Luke and Logan had earlier. (Out of those three, the one she would be most disappointed not to remember was still him.)

"Yeah." His verbal capacity had increased just a tad, confirming her that he had in fact recognized her voice. In spite of everything, this still satisfied her a little, only not really enough to make her smile to herself.

"Um, hi," she said again, stressed by the silence.

"Hey," he said, not knowing what else would be possible to say, his mind drawing a complete blank.

"Look, I'm, uh, sorry – about earlier," she rambled nervously, needing to get this out. She wasn't sorry it had happened really, but she _was _sorry still.

"Um, it's okay," he responded quietly, even though he didn't mean it and knew that she knew this too. He just had to say it, because her distress bothered him and he couldn't make it worse, even though he had every right to be mad or bitter or whatever he should be, but wasn't really. He was just confused, and a little curious, wondering what turn this conversation could take, why she had called, what she wanted to say to him.

Suddenly he heard her crying silently on the other end.

"Rory?" he asked, concern so evident in his voice that it made her cry a bit more audible, because it hurt to hear him still care (even though the contrary would hurt so much worse).

"I screwed up, Jess," she mumbled between soft sobs.

He didn't know what to say, so he just listened.

"I shouldn't have married him. I just shouldn't have. I shouldn't have said 'no' to you in the first place, I should have gone with you, maybe we'd be married instead and then I'd be happy and not kissing other guys and cheating on my husband because then you'd be my husband and you're really the only one I want to kiss," she rambled very quickly, pausing only to sniffle now and then. "But I did marry him, and I've got Sheila with him and I don't want to have a kid with him, but now I can't just leave him and I'm stuck here and you just showed up and I kissed you and I shouldn't have!" She got more and more hysterical. Jess just listened, her broken voice tearing at his heart, causing actual physical pain in him.

"I just don't know what I'm gonna do now." She was begging him for answers he couldn't give and it broke him even more not to be able to do anything for her. He wanted to say comforting things like 'everything will be okay', but he didn't know that and he couldn't lie. He wanted so much but to say this, yet he did because he had to.

"Look, I'm really not the one you should be telling all this to," he sighed tiredly. "You know that too, Ror," he added, a bit more gently, wishing he didn't have to end this conversation, wishing that he could keep her on the phone all night even if it was slowly killing him.

"I know, but I just… I can't deal with him," she admitted weakly. He knew, but he had to be strong now. She had to do this, and she had called him for some kind of help. Right now this was all he could offer her; the truth.

"I'm sorry, but I can't help you with this. I can't make any decisions for you and I can't tell you what to do." He hated himself for the words coming out of him mouth, and for the extra sniffle he knew they caused.

"I know." That gave him a small sense of relief. At least she knew he wasn't meaning to hurt her. He needed that to do what he had to do.

"You need to talk to him. I gotta go." He sounded too harsh. He didn't want to be harsh. It was just hurting too much and he needed to hang up, to get away from this, from her pleading voice.

"But, Jess-"

"No buts, Rory, please," he pleaded back at her. "Just – work this out, okay?" he asked, not begging, but wishing. So much wishing.

"Okay," she whispered, sniffling. "Okay."

And then she could no longer hear his breathing in her ear. She knew he was gone, she felt it before the dial tone came.

She sat for a while there, phone still pressed tight in her hand. She only let go of it when she realized her knuckles were growing white. The alarm clock beside her bed told her that it now was way past midnight and very much time to go to bed. Her body gladly chimed in on that, screaming with exhaustion from a very trying day. She sighed and sunk down amongst the pillows and covers, losing herself in the fluffiness. Her eyelids were extremely heavy now and her body was getting relaxed. Her mind pondered that she probably should stay awake and wait for Logan, deal with him and get that over with, but on the other hand she had no idea when he might be expected and she really didn't have the energy to keep herself awake. Also, she knew the confrontation with Logan could very possibly lead to some life-altering, and house-altering, decision. And she definitely did not have the strength to move today. It could all be dealt with tomorrow, she thought before finally allowing her eyes to close.

Jess had now moved his brooding session to the bed instead of the couch, but that really was all that had changed; the location. He knew he wouldn't get any sleep, and his thoughts were just as anxious after the phone call as they had been before. Maybe he had more reasons for that small hope flittering around and never abandoning him now than he had before, but it had been there also then. And even though it now probably was less believable than it had been before that he would never see her again, he still knew the chances pointed against him. She wouldn't leave her husband just to be with him. This was Rory Gilmore, and she wouldn't do that, even though she maybe wanted to. Plus, even though today had insinuated that she did want to be with him, he wasn't too sure that she really did. He never had been one to assume those things easily. In some ways he was still insecure, and he had trouble trusting happiness to come his way.

He wanted this too much, and that was why he wasn't able to close his eyes all night, just because of the maybe her 'okay' had offered him. He was just afraid of expecting too much, and then be let down and even more broken. So instead he tried to force himself to believe that she would never talk to him again, just so he wouldn't be disappointed when (if) she later didn't. This wasn't really a comforting way to handle it, but it was the only way he knew to keep himself at least somewhat protected.

**A/N: **It's a bit short, but I couldn't make it longer because then it would have been way too long. I've got the plot worked out for the next chapter, I just need the time to put it together and the inspiration of knowing someone wants to read it. So, if you want to read more, tell me so. And please let me know what you thought of this chapter.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** I am extremely sorry. It has been way way way too long. I think… two months? I really did not mean for that to happen. I have an excuse, even though it may be a lame one. I wrote a book. And that one kind of took all my time and inspiration here for a while, keeping me from finishing this or any of my other started stories (both fanfiction and not). But, now I am back. I don't know if any of you still remember this story, or if anyone new will get interested now that I'm posting again, but anyway, here is the next chapter.

_Chapter Six_

Slowly returning from lands of dreams where everything was different, she stretched her arms and yawned quietly. Her mouth was dry and she must have slept in a weird angle, because her neck was throbbing a little as she started to move, unwillingly awakening and returning to the real world.

As she let her eyes fall open, she found the space next to her in the bed empty. For a split second, she thought Logan hadn't ever made it home last night. But she had no time to get filled with any kind of emotion over that, because the next second he must have seen her move as his voice suddenly flowed through the room. "Good morning, Ace," he smiled happily, barely looking up from the drawer where he was looking for something to wear for work.

However, he noticed her lack of answer, and looked up at her confusedly. She had sat up on the bed, and was giving him a dark look under her messy hair.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today," he commented, not concerned, more like annoyed. But probably that wasn't it either. It was more that it didn't sound like he cared at all that made her even surer in her decision.

"Something wrong, Ace?" he added, very much too late, and probably just because she still remained quiet and that bugged him.

"Where were you last night?" she asked accusingly, causing his smile to fade. "I waited up for you."

"Oh, you shouldn't have," he said lightly, breathing out as it was nothing worse, the smile working its way back into place. "I told you before, I was going out with the guys and you know how that gets."

"You didn't _tell_ me you were going to be out all night," she responded coldly.

"Well, I'm sorry, Ace, I just…" he started, but she interrupted him.

"Don't… call me that."

Now he looked more confused than ever. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," she sighed. "I just… you know, you promised when we had Shira, it'd be different. That you wouldn't do _this_ anymore."

"Whoa, where's this coming from?" he asked, frowning and completely forgetting about finding the right socks for a moment.

"It's coming from me!" she exclaimed. "I'm just… I'm so tired of how you just…" She paused, not knowing how to finish that sentence, suddenly being hit with how dangerous this was – how much she was jeopardizing, and she started doubting if she really really had thought this through enough and in a enough not-sleep-deprived state.

"Just what?" he asked, getting worked up now.

"I don't know," she mumbled, keeping her eyes on the duvet cover, avoiding his eyes.

"Maybe you're just getting tired of me," he concluded, bitterness in his tone. "Is that it? Maybe you've just finally decided that you're tired of this little game you obviously have been playing with me and us and everything we've built up together. You're just gonna throw all that out the window now for whoever _he_ is, is that it?"

Tears had started streaming down her face. She wasn't sure for what. For him or for his words or for the look on his face or for herself or for the future or for Jess. Perhaps it was just everything together that made her cry quietly in this deafening silence.

He help up his hand to keep her from speaking as she finally attempted to, letting her mouth fall open, grasping for air to her aching lungs, desperately trying to find some words.

When he spoke, his voice was just a little broken with something that could have been sorrow but just as easily could have been anger. "Just tell me one thing," he said, sounding so defeated she almost felt bad for him. "Just tell me one thing before I'll go and leave you alone. Did you sleep with him?" Okay, she did not feel bad for him anymore.

"No!" she protested, offended. "No, Logan, no," she added, wiping her nose a little and feeling pathetic, the energy to be angry gone again, as quickly as it had appeared.

"But you kissed, right?" he asked, smiling cynically down in the sock drawer that had regained his attention.

She opened her mouth to tell him 'no', but couldn't. Another tear found its way into her lap. God, she had never thought this would be her.

"That's what I thought," he said, reading her lack of answer correctly.

"It's not what you think," she whispered. "It was one time. It wasn't… I'm so sorry."

She was. She was sorry. He may not be perfect, but he didn't deserve this, and she _was_ sorry.

"Yeah. Yeah, me too, I guess," he said, frowning. "I gotta go to work. I… I'll be back later to pick up my stuff. And I'll set up a meeting with my lawyer for tomorrow so that we can settle the divorce and the custody of Shira," he said, sounding a bit mechanical, and looking like he somehow had no idea what he was really saying.

"We'll have joint custody," she hurried to pitch in, receiving a grateful small smile from him. She gave him one back. Even if she never loved him, he had always loved Shira, and she wasn't going to let her daughter grow up without a father.

"Thank you," she said pointedly as they held the stare for a moment.

"Yeah," he said, drawing his hand through his hair. "Bye."

And then he was gone. She heard the door slam after him. She breathed out.

"Mommy?"

A small voice came from the doorway, quickly causing Rory to look up. "Where's daddy?"

Rory interrupted Shira, while gently placing a curl of hair behind her ear. "Um, sweetie… It's… been a change of plans. Daddy's gonna be gone for a little while and then mommy and daddy aren't gonna be living together anymore. You'll be living with one of us at the time, but you'll still have both of us. Just not at the same time, okay?"

She wasn't sure Shira understood the meaning of this. She was pretty sure it was way too much for such a small kid to grasp. But she said the words out loud because she had to try, making it more real. Feeling as though she had a little trouble breathing, she lifted Shira up and hugged her tightly, searching for some comfort.

"Mommy? Are you crying?"

Shit. She should have wiped her wet cheeks before squeezing Shira against her them.

"No, no, of course mommy's not crying, sweetie. Mommy's just… um, having a cold, that's all," she lied, taking the only excuse she could think of. "Come on, let's get you dressed now," she added quickly, realizing they were running late.

Shira gladly jumped down and ran to start picking out some new clothes. Rory slowly followed, wondering how she would get through this day. It was too surrealistic to be true, and she honestly had no idea whether she should be devastated or relieved.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I talked to Logan," her voice breathed into his ear, full of hesitation and insecurity, giving nothing away of what the result of that conversation had been.

As full of emotions as Jess was (emotions like dread, nervousness, expectation…), he didn't let any of it slip out. Had he been any other person, he would have burst out an "and?" as the curiosity was killing him slowly. But, he was Jess, and that would just be way too uncharacteristic. He waited in silence, seemingly disinterested in what she had to say. But she was Rory and she knew Jess and his silences. Therefore she continued without response, knowing not to get thrown off track by it, because she felt him listening, waiting.

"It's over."

**A/N: **I hope you liked it. Kind of intense, I think. Technically this is the end to the story, but I do have an epilogue coming up. If any of you wants to read it and tells me so in some nice reviews I'll post it as soon as I get it done, which won't take as long as the last time… I'll appreciate any reviews, so just push that button and tell me what you think!


	7. Epilogue

**A/N:** Here is the epilogue. Now I know the ending in the last chapter was a little fast. I just really wanted to finish this story, and I don't have much time for it. So sorry if it felt too fast. I hope you like this one! At least a faster up-date this time, right?

_**Epilogue**_

_Three years later_

The sky was pale blue. The ground was sparkling with white glitter; the first snowfall of the season had just taken place last night. This caused three things.

The first thing the snow caused was the cold, crispy air, much clearer than usual. Jess liked this about the winter season. Being able to take deep breaths with air so cold that it almost hurt his lungs. It felt good. It made him feel alive.

The second thing it caused was Rory's small hand hiding in Jess's larger one. It still amazed her how his hands were always just warm enough to make her colder ones comfortable. She loved when he did this. It made her feel protected; the way his fingers surrounded hers completely, leaving nothing out in the open. She loved this so much that she refused to wear the gloves matching her cap (the cap that was her favourite, mostly because Jess in one weak moment had admitted he thought it looked kind of cute on her). Even though this meant leaving one hand free, freezing its ass off (figuratively speaking, of course), it was worth it.

The snow also caused a third thing; an ecstatic Shira. She loved the snow. She was a huge fan of snowmans, snowball fights, catching snowflakes on her tongue. In short, she was a big fan of the snow.

As the grownups walked hand-in-hand, Shira jumped along next to them; touching the snow, picking up the snow, kicking the snow and making it fly all over them. The whole time with a satisfied grin shining up her features.

They arrived at the park. Jess let go of Rory's hand. She wanted to protest, but held it back, knowing that the only reason he was allowed to let her go was this. She sat down on a bench, smilingly watching her little Shira happier than ever, playing with Jess. From afar, it looked like he was teaching her how to make real good snowballs, something she had always been a bit too impatient with to be good at. And even though Rory's hand missed Jess's; for getting to see him like this, it was worth just about everything.

Getting tired of just being the spectator, she took the few steps up to them, just in time to hear Shira squeak giddily as she finally managed to form a firm enough snowball that would stay in one piece while flying through the air; "You're sooo better than my Logan-dad at this!".

Jess didn't answer, but not knowing how closely he was watched, he allowed a pleased smile to escape at that comment.

Rory put her hand on Jess's shoulder, leaning her head against his back.

"She likes you," she whispered, close to his ear.

"Well, yeah, how could anyone not?" he tried to brush it off, a little embarrassed.

"I have no idea," she grinned, placing a soft kiss on the bare spot of his neck. "You should move in with me. With us."

The words escaped her throat before the thought was thoroughly formulated in her head. It was just a feeling that had to be set free, an impulse. And even though her words surprised herself as she listened to them suddenly blurting out, they sounded just right.

His mouth fell open a little, as he stopped deadly. She watched the steam coming from his lips at every breath, not daring to meet his eyes but not wanting to look away.

"Did you just say what I think I heard you say?" he asked, doubtingly, eyes very very serious, frowning.

He scared her, so serious, and she bit her lip nervously, almost feeling like crying. What if he didn't want to? She hesitated before answering, not wanting to repeat it, wishing deeply she could take it all back.

"Probably," she admitted, finally, eyes averting, teeth biting lip more than ever.

Waiting, waiting for words from his lips in reply, she got something else, something that took her completely by surprise. Suddenly his mouth was on hers, kissing her fiercely; passionately. She noticed that also his lips were warmer than hers, and he was more than willing to warm up her cold ones this time as well. His hands were on her back, protecting. Her hands tangled in his hair, on his neck. She could feel him smiling against her.

"You sure?" he whispered.

She nodded intensely, quickly, never having been more sure. They had waited so long, not wanting to risk making the same mistakes she had before; settling, moving too fast, getting stuck. No, they had dated; they had been boyfriend and girlfriend. They had told each other _"I love you"_. They had spent more and more time together, by now practically every free minute. But not until now had they really been committed, because she had been scared. But now, she wasn't scared anymore. It was time.

"Okay then," he now replied, finally, and in a tone that wouldn't suggest this was a big deal at all.

However, his eyes spoke differently, glimmering with a serious smile. She knew this was right and she threw herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. This time she kissed him; at first hardly and roughly, then soft, more gently – all in one kiss that never wanted to end.

Until something hit the place where their heads met. Something white, round, that as it hit them splattered into a million pieces of white, causing them to stop, wet and surprised.

They stayed still for a moment, blinking snowflakes out of their eyes in shock. Than their expression at the same time turned mischievous with small, evil smiles.

"On three?" she suggested.

"One… two… three!" he whispered, close.

And at the same time, they jumped up for revenge. Shira shrieked in delight as the two grown-ups gave her back their full attention, chasing her round and round the park, always letting her just get away, causing her to giggle even further.

Rory smiled to herself as they all fell in a exhausted pile a little later, completely out of breath. She looked over at Jess, who looked back, smirking at her as if to say _"see, I totally can do this_".

Before any of them had a chance to speak, however, Shira interrupted their moment impatiently.

"Come on, let's make snowangels!" she urged.

Not being able to reject her begging eyes, soon both Jess and Rory were waving their arms and legs in the snow, creating angels. Always making sure their arms and legs touched each other on the way out.

**A/N:** No, I am not too good to be begging for reviews. I'm begging. Please. Let me know what you thought. Maybe what I can improve the next time I'm writing a story. Or just a line to tell me you read it. Anything is appreciated.


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